


Failed Destiny

by CrazyJanaCat



Series: Harrymort One-shots [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Come as Lube, Dehumanization, Drugged Sex, Inflation, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Oral Sex, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Potions, Rape, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Training, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyJanaCat/pseuds/CrazyJanaCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had failed his destiny as the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Now, Harry Potter, Child of Prophesy, was defeated by his enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a terrible human being who keeps writing these and I can't stop.

Loud, agonized screams rang through the Great Hall as a young man writhed in agony at the feet of an older man with the facial features reminiscent of a snake rather than a man. This young man released another anguished wail as the curse continued wreaking havoc upon his already battered and abused body. Tears were streaming down his dirt- and blood caked cheeks and he scratched at the stone floor with already bloodied fingertips in desperation.

This young man suffered because he had failed his destiny as the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He had been hailed as a hero, the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Lived. But Harry Potter, Child of Prophesy, was defeated by his enemy. Voldemort had won.

The Cruciatus was finally lifted and Harry curled into himself with a soft whimper. The Death Eaters laughed at the pathetic display of the by, mocking him as their Lord watched and smiled indulgently.

Harry ignored his tormenters and instead focused on his friends. He was lying in a puddle of blood not his own, with the corpses of Ron, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks and nearly every one of the teaching staff and the Order. Percy and Charlie stared at the ceiling unseeing a few yards away, near their last surviving relatives. Ginny was desperately clutching Charlie’s cold body while Fred and George kept close to her, glaring hatefully at the Death Eaters tasked with guarding them. Bill also sat near, trying to comfort his young, hysteric wife.

Other survivors, Harry noted sluggishly, were Parvati and Padma Patil, Angelina Johnson and Romilda Vane. Dean Thomas was cradling his friend, Seamus’ head in his lap, but the other boy was clearly already dead, blood drying in the corner of his mouth. Hannah Abbot sat in a corner together with Ernie McMillan and Cho was staring fearfully at their guards, tears streaming down her cheeks as Luna tried to comfort her.

Harry looked away feeling guilty for not being able to protect any of them. He watched the other side of the Great Hall, where all the 7th year Slytherin students were standing, all looking pale-faced and nervous.

There were Draco, Pansy, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracy Davis and a girl Harry never bothered learning the name of. Harry momentarily wondered what would happen to them and if Voldemort would force them to take his mark.

A hissing laugh had Harry tense up, making his muscles all scream in protest at the simple movement. Slowly, he looked up, meeting cold, red eyes with tired, haunted green. Voldemort smirked.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort spoke softly, almost hissing his enemy’s name.  
“Look at you, lying at my feet. Like this, it’s hard to believe you were Prophesized to kill me.”

“The night is still young,” Harry croaked, wincing at how sore his throat was from all his screaming.

_“Crucio!”_

Harry’s body seized up with a new bout of unimaginable pain. His body arched off the cold, wet floor and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Blood flooded his mouth almost immediately and after about 20 seconds, he could no longer keep quiet and screamed until his throat bled.

Voldemort kept him under the curse for several minutes, gleefully watching the teen trash around next to his dead friends, splashing like a dying fish around in their blood. When he finally released the spell, Harry gave a sob of relief and went limp, breathing heavily as his nerves still screamed and his body still burned.

“Kill me,” the young, defeated hero whimpered.  
“Please, just kill me. I don’t – I can’t take this anymore.”

Voldemort laughed coldly at the request, his Death Eaters soon joining in.

“So broken already!” the Dark Lord mocked.  
“Perhaps this will be easier than I suspected.”

With a quick swipe of the Elder Wand, now truly Voldemort’s after he defeated the Boy Who Lived, Harry’s clothes vanished, leaving the broken and abused teen bare for all to see. Harry flinched weakly, but didn’t – couldn’t move otherwise. He closed his eyes in horror, the numbing pain making him unable to do anything else about the situation. The Death Eaters only made it worse with their jeers and cat-calls. Harry really wished Voldemort would just let him die already.

“Crabbe!” Voldemort called out at his followers.  
“You may have the boy first, as compensation for the loss of your son.”

One of the cloaked and masked men stepped forward and bowed at his Lord.

“Thank you for this honour, my Lord,” Crabbe said humbly.

Harry watched warily as the man approached him. He wished desperately that he could move more than just a finger, but his entire body had gone numb after being held under the Cruciatus curse for so long. He could do nothing but watch as Crabbe Sr. knelt down in front of him and took of his mask, revealing a wide and evil grin.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled.  
“The Dark Lord is kind to allow me my revenge for my boy.”

“He did that to himself,” Harry croaked softly, glaring at Crabbe.

Crabbe’s eyes darkened in anger and he struck Harry across the face hard, making the teen groan and whimper. His already cracked glasses skidded from his face, landing somewhere Harry didn’t know where. He was roughly manhandled to lay on his back as Crabbe sat between his legs.

“… No…” Harry whimpered, shaking his head weakly.

Crabbe laughed cruelly and grabbed the back of Harry’s knees, pulling his legs up and pushing his legs up against Harry’s chest. Harry made a pained noise and lifted his arms with great effort and uselessly pushed against the man’s chest. Crabbe just laughed again and pushed harder against Harry’s legs, making the boy whimper.

“P-please, don’t,” Harry sobbed as he felt the man open his robes.

“Consider this payback, Potter!” Crabbe Sr. hissed as he positioned the head of his cock against the teen’s virgin anus.

With that, he started pressing inside the tight hole. Harry closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, new tears beading in his eyes as he was slowly penetrated. He tried pushing against Crabbe’s shoulders again, but he was still too weak and he couldn’t even feel his arms yet. The man above him gave a slightly pained groan at the extreme tightness as he barely fitted his cockhead in the dry and previously virgin arse.

Crabbe Sr. tried to push in deeper, but Harry clamped down on his cock too hard, and the dry entry made movement painful for both willing and unwilling participants. When a sudden, warm wetness entered his bowels, Harry’s eyes flew open again and he stared at the grinning man slowly penetrating in shock and horror. Crabbe pulled back a bit before shoving his prick in hard.

“ARGH!” Harry screamed, throwing his head back, clutching Crabbe’s robes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

The Death Eater kept pushing in until his pelvis pressed against Harry’s arse. The teen was loudly sobbing now as he felt his hole tear from the too large object. The man’s smelly piss stung the new tears as soon as they were made, but at least he was now lubricated inside, making the pain just a little more bearable. Somewhere far away, he could hear the other Death Eaters laughing, calling him names.

The memory that there were other people watching was gone from his mind as Crabbe pulled back. Harry had hoped that the worst would have been over with the penetration, but the prick pulling out was just as terrible, worse even with the disgusting wet sucking noises it made. And halfway out, the man slammed back fully inside, making Harry wail in agony.

Soon, the man set a harsh pace as he fucked Harry roughly. Harry’s back slid over the floor with every thrust and he had let go of Crabbe’s robes with one hand to try and grip the floor to prevent himself from sliding away entirely. Crabbe just laughed cruelly and pressed his fingertips hard into the flesh of Harry’s thighs as he folded Harry in two and leaned over him until he was breathing into the teen’s ear.

“You feel all that sloshing inside your belly?” he asked.  
“That’s all you are now. Just a hole to fill up. Piss, cum, anything we feel like.”

Harry whimpered and shook his head, making the man on top of him laugh cruelly and fuck him even harder. Harry squeaked when he felt the prick buggering him swell and pulse inside of him, right before Crabbe groaned loudly and released his cum deep into Harry’s bowels. When he was finished, he stood up, his softening cock sliding out of Harry’s slick hole easily.

Sobbing, Harry turned on his side and curled up, wincing as his arse stung fiercely. This was the worst that had ever happened to him, including the earlier torture session. He could feel liquids leaking from his abused hole and shuddered. Even if he could escape from this hell, he knew that after this, he would never be the same again.

“Well then,” Voldemort spoke up loudly from his throne, making Harry glance over minutely.  
“Since Crabbe is finished breaking in the entertainment, I’d like to invite anyone who wants to take the stage.”

This was met with loud cheers and applause, making Harry tense in horror. His terror only heightened when he saw another masked and robed man approach him, smirk visible underneath the skull mask. Harry wanted to crawl away from him, but the torture and rape had left him too weak to try.

The stranger’s foot pressed in his side and he was rolled over onto his stomach before the Death Eater moved behind him and pulled his hips up, forcing Harry on his knees while his head and chest stayed down on the cold, wet floor. A second later had Harry screaming again as he was forcefully entered by this new man.

His prick was thinner than Crabbe’s, but longer and he seemed to reach much, much deeper into Harry’s bowels. He also lasted several minutes longer than Crabbe had, but eventually, he too released his load inside Harry before shoving the teen away and moving back into the circle.

Harry was exhausted and in incredible pain. Tiredly, he glanced over to his friends. Most of them were staring in horror and disgust at what was happening to Harry, but others, like Cho, Ginny, Fleur and Hannah, had hidden their faces and covered their ears to keep everything out. Luna smiled shakily at Harry, probably trying to give him courage, but Harry knew she had been crying too, just like nearly everyone in their pathetic little group of survivors. At least they were still untouched. Harry hoped it would stay like that.

His mind snapped back to his current situation as he felt someone else press their prick against his arsehole. Harry whimpered, too tired and sore to make any more noise as he was once again penetrated. This one was smaller than the first two, and Harry was slowly going numb down there, so it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

With already two loads of cum slicking his insides, the new man slid in without any resistance. Harry just lay still and let them use him for now. When this was over, he’d work on getting his strength back and free his friends. Even as he thought it, Harry knew how little chance he had to escape at all.

The man screwing him came and moved away, leaving Harry empty and leaking the spent of several men. The teen was panting hard, sweat coating every part of his naked body. He really hoped it was over, but with everything going on right now, Harry knew that would be too much to ask.

A gentle hand grasped his chin and pulled his head up. Harry blinked owlishly and looked up through tired eyes, recognizing the calm, emotionless face of Blaise Zabini. His ex-classmate pulled Harry up until he was kneeling in front of the bronze skinned Italian’s feet. The Slytherin smirked and pulled his hard cock from his robes, pressing the leaking head against Harry’s slightly parted lips.

“Don’t bite down,” the teen warned before thrusting into the wet cavern.

Harry choked almost immediately as the head of Zabini’s prick made its way down his throat. New tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as his nose was pressed against his classmate’s pelvis. Coarse pubic hairs made their way into his nostrils and cut off his air. His stomach heaved as his gag reflex was triggered, but he hadn’t eaten in a while, so only acid tried to come up, only to be blocked by the prick still lodged deep in his throat.

At last, Zabini pulled back. He was grabbing hold of Harry’s head with both hands and used that grip to force Harry to bob his head. Harry chocked and sputtered while trying to get used of the rhythm. It was hard, but eventually Harry got the hang of it and he was able to somewhat breathe again every time Zabini pulled back almost all the way.

After a few minutes, Harry was again shoved back all the way down on the prick in his mouth and a second after his nose bumped against a toned stomach, his mouth was being filled with a sticky, bitter liquid. It was thick and disgusting, but Harry had no choice but to swallow it down to prevent himself from choking on it. The taste was horrid, and Harry hoped it was over soon.

Even when Zabini was finished coming, he kept Harry’s head in place. Harry could feel the penis slowly softening on his tongue and he glanced up confused, only to see a wicked smirk on Zabini’s face. Then suddenly, his mouth was filled again with another liquid and he understood what Zabini had been waiting for. Closing his eyes against the humiliation, Harry swallowed the piss of his classmate down, knowing that he didn’t have any other choice.

He had thought that the cum was the worst thing to taste, but the piss was easily ten times worse. It was lukewarm and tasted of ammonia. Harry had closed his eyes tightly and his face was contorted in a look of disgust that made Zabini laugh quietly before he finally pulled back. Harry immediately turned his head to the side and threw up under the thunderous laughter of the Death Eaters.

Somewhere to the side, he could hear someone yelling, but he was too caught up with emptying his stomach of its putrid contents as quick as possible. There was more commotion from the corner where his friends were and Harry slowly looked up, seeing Ginny standing up, being held back by Bill as she screamed to one of the Death Eater guards, tears in her eyes. Fred and George were being stunned by another one of the guards, meaning they likely tried to attack him as well.

“Harry,” Voldemort spoke gently, making Harry’s attention shoot over to him.

The Dark Lord was still seated on his throne where the teacher’s table used to be before. The man was smiling at him and the sight made Harry shiver in fear. A happy Voldemort was never a good thing in Harry’s experience. It meant someone else was in a lot of pain. In this case, Harry was that someone.

“Did you have enough?” Voldemort asked smirking.

“N-no.. no more,” Harry whimpered, staring up to the man he vowed to take down.

“If you wish for this to end, crawl to me and show everyone how you submit to me.”

Harry heaved himself back on hands and knees with great effort. He started crawling, gritting his teeth against the intense pain in his waist and lower back. He felt like someone was stabbing him with red hot knives and he winced violently. He barely had taken one step or his arms already gave out, making him flop back down. He closed his eyes and waited until the Death Eaters were done laughing before he tried again. It took him about 5 attempts, but at last, he reached Voldemort.

“Well?” the Dark Lord asked impatiently.

Harry tried to think of something to prove he had submitted to Voldemort, but really, hadn’t the crawling been enough? He didn’t see how much more submissive he could get without kissing the man’s feet… oh… ohhhh.

Swallowing what was left of his pride, Harry bent down and kissed the hem of Lord Voldemort’s robes. He could hear the shocked intakes of breath from his friends and the snickering of the Death Eaters and Slytherins. His cheeks burned in shame as he sat back on his heels, waiting for Voldemort to say or do something. Preferably kill him, or slit his own throat. That would be wonderful.

“Good,” Voldemort praised, making Harry shiver in disgust.  
“Now, I will give you a choice. Either you go back down there and become the cock-sleeve and toilet of my loyal Death Eaters, or you become my personal fuck toy.”

Harry scowled. Neither of those options were preferable in his mind. He wondered if refusing would be possible. Anything would be better than being used by these people over and over again, even if it meant being in the perfect position for an assassination attempt.

“There is also a third choice,” Voldemort continued, making Harry’s head shoot up.  
“You can watch while my followers rape and torture your remaining friends and then we will set you free.”

Kill him, more likely. And like hell was he going to let his friends die! Harry gritted his teeth and glared down at the ground. There really was only one choice, and Voldemort knew that too. Harry sighed in defeat and looked back up at his enemy with tired green eyes.

“I choose you,” he murmured softly.

“That is the right decision,” Voldemort smirked.

It was, Harry agreed silently. At least like this, he would be close by Voldemort, which would give him the perfect position to strangle the bastard in his own bed. He would regret leaving Harry alive, Harry would make sure of that.

Voldemort grinned at him and gripped his hair, pulling him between his parted legs as he pulled out his pale, scaly cock from his robes. Harry swallowed nervously, wondering what the consequences would be to bite the man’s cock off and whether it was worth dying over. It was, but it wasn’t worth watching his friends die over, Harry decided. Sighing in defeat, Harry opened his mouth and leaned down, taking the head of Voldemort’s prick between his bruised and chapped lips.

Harry slid down until the head of Voldemort’s cock his the back of his throat before he slowly moved upward again, using his tongue to reluctantly rub the underside of the scaly monstrosity. Voldemort was bigger than any of his followers. Big enough even to make Harry’s jaw ache horribly and the teen wondered absently if the man would be narcissistic enough to magically enlarge his prick just for the sake of being bigger than anyone else. Yes, he decided. Voldemort most definitely was.

Voldemort moaned softly and carded his fingers through Harry’s messed up, sticky hair gently. Harry scowled at the kind touch, not liking it at all. Voldemort was supposed to hate him, beat him and hurt him. He was supposed to kill him, dammit! Why didn’t he?

In his frustration, Harry forgot his task and care. His teeth scraped carelessly against the sensitive flesh in his mouth, making the hand in his hair tighten warningly. Harry winced, quickly covering his teeth and pulling back until he only had the head in his mouth before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. The hand continued its gentle petting again as Voldemort moaned in appreciation.

Harry continued pleasuring Voldemort to the best of his limited abilities for a while. His jaw was now screaming against the strain of being kept open wide for so long, and Harry had to fight every instinct not to bite or pull away at the taste of Voldemort’s pre-come on his tongue.

At last, he felt a tug on his hair, indicating he should pull away. Harry moved off the unnaturally thick and long cock. For a few moments, he was unable to close his mouth from the stiffness that had settled in his jaw after nearly 15 minutes of being forced to its widest. Because of that, when Voldemort grunted and came all over his face, some of it landed in his mouth. Harry made a disgusted face and lifted an arm to wipe the cum away, only for Voldemort to stop him.

“Leave it like that,” the Dark Lord told him smugly.

Harry glared but obeyed. He was too tired to fight anyway. He’d get his revenge later.

“Lock the prisoners away. I and my new slave will be retiring as well,” Voldemort ordered as he stood from his throne.

As Harry’s friends were all led out of the Great Hall, Voldemort started walking out as well, motioning for Harry to follow him. Slowly, Harry started rising to his feet, only to be hit by a painful stinging hex from the Dark Lord, who glared at him.

“You will crawl, Potter,” he said.

Harry glared hatefully, but did as told and followed Voldemort on his hands and knees. They walked to the headmaster’s office, where Voldemort led him inside and ordered him to stay put as he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the large desk. The polished oak wood turned into iron bars, only leaving the top unchanged. Where the open space for the chair used to be was now a small door.

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. When Voldemort had said he wanted Harry as a sex toy, he thought it would mean he’d have to share the man’s bed, but here he was, being locked inside a cage that was too small to stretch out in, but large enough to leave him some space for movement. Harry struggled when Voldemort dragged him over to the cage, but it was useless as he was shoved against the top harshly and held down as Voldemort moved his own robes out of the way.

Harry whimpered softly as he was forcefully entered from behind, his eyes closed in pain and disgust. He was still loose and wet from earlier, but that wasn’t enough to help him take the enormous girth of the Dark Lord. Voldemort quickly started moving, caring little for letting Harry adjust to his immense size as he fucked into the teen ruthlessly.

“Thoroughly used, yet still so tight,” Voldemort whispered hotly in his ear.

“Go to hell,” Harry grunted bitterly.

Voldemort laughed, cruel and high pitched as he paused for a few moments in his thrusting. Harry gritted his teeth against the vibrations the laughing caused. He tensed when Voldemort moved again, his cock sliding deeper into Harry as he leaned over Harry’s back.

“You already are in hell, Potter,” the Dark wizard hissed gleefully before he went back to fucking Harry.

For the longest time, Voldemort’s grunts and Harry’s pained whimpers was all that could be heard in the room before the Dark wizard pushed as deep as he could go and stilled. It felt as if the prick reached all the way into Harry’s throat, so big it seemed to Harry. He bit his lip keeping in the sobs that wanted to escape as Voldemort’s seed flooded his insides, along with the cum already in there from the other Death Eaters. When he was done, he finally pulled out.

Before the teen could recover from the abuse, he was hauled up and pulled to the other side of the desk, where the small cage door was wide open and he was shoved inside. Harry tried to fight, tried to get back out, but Voldemort just slammed the flat of his hand in Harry’s face and pushed him backwards, making the teen topple over in the small space before closing and locking the cage. Harry whined and rattled the bars, glaring at the Dark Lord, who just laughed.

“When you’re properly trained, I will use that desk for doing paperwork while you are still under there, pleasuring me,” he told Harry.  
“Get used to being in there, it will be your home from now on until I decide you can be trusted in my bed. Oh, yes, I know what you want to do to me, Harry.”

Harry glowered at him and tightened his grip on the bars.

“One day, I’ll kill you, Tom,” he hissed.

“We’ll see, little Harry,” the man laughed before walking back out of the room.

 


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the plan, as it was supposed to be a one-shot, but my mind decided against that, so there will be another one or two chapters after this before it's really finished.

Harry couldn’t sleep at all. Not just from being uncomfortable in his cage, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw his friends dying again and it terrified him to no end. Still, he must have dosed off at some point, because when he woke up, two dog bowls stood in his cage. One was filled with water and the other…

“Fuck you!” Harry shouted angrily, throwing the bowl with dogfood through the bars.

The bowl of water followed shortly after. Harry took a vindictive sort of pleasure in seeing the carpet get soaked. He hoped it would piss Voldemort off.

Harry was disappointed when Voldemort entered the room a few hours later. He just looked at the mess, shook his head in slight exasperation before vanishing it. He gave Harry an indulgent smile, as if he was just a pet who didn’t know any better. It made Harry even more angry and he glared hatefully at the Dark Lord. Voldemort just ignored the look and rounded the desk, opening Harry’s cage.

“Stay away from me you bastard!” Harry growled, scrambling out of reach.

“Very well,” Voldemort sighed, backing up and reclosing the cage.

With that, he just walked back out of the room, leaving Harry all on his own. For the rest of the day, Harry stayed locked up in the cage, not seeing a single living soul. He remembered before, when Hogwarts was still Hogwarts, the Headmaster’s office had all the paintings of the former headmasters. Now though, they were all taken down. Harry couldn’t help but think that his imprisonment would be a bit more bearable if he had the paintings at least to keep him company.

No food came either, and after several hours, Harry started to begrudgingly regret throwing the bowl of water out as his throat became incredibly dry. He hadn’t eaten since the morning of the final battle nor had he drank anything since that time. No way he was going to consider Zabini’s piss as drinking! He shuddered at the thought alone. Disgusting bastard…

In the end, he started to doze off again, slowly drifting into a restless, nightmare filled sleep. He stayed in that space between sleep and wakefulness until the door swung open again and Voldemort strode back in. He made towards Harry’s cage immediately and Harry quickly moved to the farthest corner from the door, pressing himself against the metal bars behind him as he hissed angrily at the Dark wizard.

“Get out here and let me fuck you,” Voldemort ordered calmly.

“How about go fuck yourself, Pervert!” Harry shouted.

Again, Voldemort just sighed and walked away. His easy dismissal confused and frightened Harry, making him believe the evil wizard had something horrible planned for him. Even with all this fear in his heart, Harry soon fell back in an exhausted, fitful sleep.

The next morning, two new bowls stood on exactly the same spot as they had been the day before. The bowl of dogfood was pretty much the same as yesterday, but the bowl of water had been replaced by a bowl of piss. Shuddering in disgust, Harry threw both of them out again. If that bastard thought Harry would willingly drink something as disgusting as that, he’d have another thing coming! Harry would rather just die of dehydration!

The rest of the day was exactly the same as the day before. Voldemort walked in not long after Harry woke up, shook his head and sighed at the mess before vanishing it with a dismissive wave. As he opened Harry’s cage, the teen crawled out of reach and spat curses at him before the small door was locked again and Voldemort left calmly.

The thirst had become too much at this point already, and it only got worse as the hours passed by. Harry’s body was exhausted, trying to keep functioning without any sustenance and the injuries of the battle. The Cruciatus Curse was still was still in his system, even if it had been two days. His lack of food and water since then made it impossible to recover.

Because of this, when Voldemort returned in the evening, Harry was too weak to move away and was easily snatched from his cage. He didn’t have the strength or willpower to struggle when he was roughly bend over the desk and was unable to cry out when Voldemort forcefully entered him. He gasped dryly at the intrusion. His throat felt like sandpaper and his head was pounding from the sudden movements.

It ended shortly after it started when Harry gave into the pain and exhaustion and blacked out…

.              .              .               .              .

When Harry woke up, it was to a state of pain. Not the kind of pain that came from torture or rape, but a dull, constant throbbing around his crotch and stomach. His arse felt weird too, but his last memory before losing consciousness was of Voldemort fucking him, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. What was a surprise was the fact that he was lying in a soft, warm bed instead of the ratty dog pillow in his cage.

Groaning, he pressed his arms against his stomach and rolled on his side, curling into a ball at the pain. His eyes fluttered open and he tensed. Next to his bed – which turned out to be the bed in the farthest corner of the hospital wing – sat Voldemort, calmly staring down at him.

“I thought you had agreed to become my pet,” the man spoke coldly.

“Never said I’d be a _good_ pet,” Harry snorted in reply, glaring at the man.

“And in such cases, I look somewhere else to have my needs fulfilled,” Voldemort said.

Harry tensed, eyes widening as he stared up at Voldemort with fear.

“Cho Chang.”

“… No…” Harry whimpered, but he was ignored by Voldemort, who just continued talking.

“She cried the whole time. Begged and wailed…” he said.  
“That only got worse when I mentioned that handsome boy… What was his name again? Diggory.”

Harry surged upwards, stretching out his arms towards Voldemort with the intent to strangle the monster, but a sharp sting in his abdomen had him cry out and crumble up on the edge of his bed.

“I had a few alterations done to you while you were out, if you were wondering why you’re so sore,” Voldemort explained amused.  
“Nothing worrisome, I assure you. Simply some ‘extra’s’ to make your new life a bit more pleasurable… For me at least.”

“…What did you do to me?” Harry whispered, looking terrified.

“Roll on your back and lift your legs.”

Harry just glared at him, curling up even more. Voldemort sighed in annoyance.

“I won’t threaten you with Chang. I already gifted her to Rabastan,” he said calmly.  
“He seemed highly interested in the girl, and I can certainly see why. She very pretty. So is little Ginny Weasley. She’s said to have a lot of spirit.”

Reluctantly, Harry shuffled back to the middle of the bed and lay down on his back. Slowly, he hooked his arms around the back of his knees and pulled them up to his chest. Voldemort smirked at him as he moved to sit on the bed near Harry’s backside. He moved the teen’s legs further apart before one hand skirted down to Harry’s rear and caressed it.

“I have to see if everything functions like it should,” he explained.

Two fingers were pressed in immediately, making Harry wince at the sudden burn. Voldemort twisted them a bit and Harry bit his lip to keep a pained whimper from escaping. The fingers pushed in further and Harry gasped, his eyes flew open in shock as sparks of intense pleasure ran through him.

“Looks like that part works just fine,” Voldemort told him amused.  
“I had your prostate gland enlarged and made extra sensitive.”

Harry blinked away tears and moaned loudly. His entire body seemed to be on fire with all the pleasure the simple thrusting movements of those two fingers. A third finger slid in easily into his slicked hole. Harry tensed. Voldemort hadn’t used any lube. Through the haze of pleasure, he could hear Voldemort laugh softly, and he turned his head to stare confused at his tormentor.

“Another change I had issued is that you no longer excrete waste,” Voldemort explained.  
“Instead, most of it is recycled and turned into slick, which will lubricate your insides whenever your prostate is stimulated. This allowed the removal of some of your bowels, and I had them replaced with a womb-like space. No, you can’t get pregnant, I have no use for it. Let’s call it a sperm sack of sorts. I come inside you and that sack will keep any of my sperm from getting back out. It takes quite some force to empty, and it can be filled to great capacities.”

A fourth finger pressed in, but Harry barely noticed as he closed his eyes in horror and sobbed. How could Voldemort do this to him? Why couldn’t he just kill Harry and get it over with already? He tried his best to keep those feelings of hatred and horror, but the constant assault on his over-sensitized prostate had him arch his back in orgasm. His brows furrowed in confusion of the strange sensation. Something else was off about him.

“Ah, yes. The last change,” Voldemort hummed.

He grabbed Harry’s cock, still leaking even though he just came, and Harry realized what was wrong. He’d never gotten hard. The realization had Harry tense and clench hard around the intruding fingers, making sparks of pain shoot up his spine. Voldemort just chuckled and kept fucking him with his fingers, forcing Harry to relax again to keep from hurting even more.

“You have no reason at all for an erection,” Voldemort told him gleefully.  
“So I made sure you wouldn’t anymore. You can still come of course.”

“Why are you doing this,” Harry whimpered.

Voldemort didn’t reply, too focused on fitting his thumb into Harry’s hole. The teen’s breath hitched as the last digit popped inside. His legs shook, and his mouth was wide open in a silent scream. All pleasure was immediately out of his system as pain took over once more.

The widest part of Voldemort’s hand entered through his tight ring of muscles painstakingly slow before he finally slid inside up to his wrist. Harry closes his eyes again and whimpers in pain. He wants to let go of his legs, struggle to get away from the massive intrusion, but Voldemort keeps him in place with one hand on his leg while he pushed his fist in deeper. His fingers are moving deep inside Harry, curling to form an actual fist and making Harry arch of the bed with a dry gasp of pain.

“Take it out,” he croaked, his entire body spasming in pain.

“That’s no way to talk to your Master,” Voldemort scolded lightly as he pushed even deeper.

His arms pressed down on Harry’s prostate, sending sparks of intense pleasure along with the unimaginable agony of being stretched way too far. Even through Harry’s whimpered protests, Voldemort kept pushing until his arm was in all the way to his elbow. At this point, Harry was full out crying and the only reason he still held on to his legs was Voldemort’s other hand tightly gripping both his wrists in an iron hold.

He started fucking Harry with his fist for a while, taking pleasure in the pained squeals and the bump appearing in the young wizard’s belly whenever he pushed in all the way. He grinned darkly as he pressed in all the way to the elbow again and spread his fingers. With the force he used, he could actually see his fingertips. Harry could only gasp in pain, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he passed out from the pain.

With a sigh, Voldemort pulled his arm out and cleaned himself up with a small, wandless and silent cleaning charm. He’d come back to play with the boy again later, after he woke up. Until then, he had a few extra arrangements to make to assure the boy finally and fully breaking.

.              .              .               .              .

When Harry woke up again, he was back in the Headmaster’s office, but not in his cage. He was tied up bend over the desk/cage, his arms tied to the corners and his legs spread and tied to the legs of the table. He was facing the door, which made him tense, eyes wide in horror. He wanted to scream, but the large spider gag in his mouth was spread so wide he could only gurgle.

On the sides of the door, hanging to the wall as art, were the petrified corpses of Ron and Hermione. Their eyes were closed, expressions serene as all the blood and grime of the battle was cleaned off of them and they were dressed in stark white tunics as they hung in crucified positions, flower crowns adorning their shiny hair.

Harry started struggling violently at the sight, wanting to free himself desperately so he could kill the man who dared mocking their sacrifice like this. He was crying, tears and snot streaming down his face as he pulled at his bonds, uncaring that he was only injuring himself with his attempts.

He cried out in outrage as the door swung open and Voldemort strode in, carrying some sort of bag and looking incredibly pleased with himself. Harry doubled his efforts in getting free, wanting to… He wanted to… With a broken sob, all fight drained from him and his head flopped down on the hard wood. He wanted to die already.

“I see you’ve been admiring the new decorations,” Voldemort spoke grinning.

Harry just closed his eyes, letting his tears escape freely as he tried to forget about everything. Maybe, maybe this was all just one fucked up dream. Maybe Harry would wake up soon in a world where he had won the battle and Voldemort was gone. He’d be with Ginny then, and Ron would smile approval when he gently kissed the beautiful red haired girl on the cheek. They’d date a bit longer he imagined, talking about their likes and dislikes, getting side-tracked when reaching the topic of Quidditch… And then, they’d give each other their virginity. All loving and gentle touches, whispered words of affection…

“How is my little slut faring today? Better?” Voldemort taunted cruelly, breaking the illusions.

Harry just squeezed his eyes harder together. Hermione and Ron would start dating not long after, and Harry would tell them how he’d seen it coming for years, making them both blush and splutter. Fred and George would have a field day teasing Ron about it no doubt. He’d propose to Ginny on a sunny spring afternoon when they were at a small diner. He’d take her out on a walk after eating, bring her to a grassy meadow near the forest and go down on one knee, pulling out a ring…

“AAH!” he gurgled through the too wide gag.

While daydreaming, he hadn’t even realised Voldemort walking up behind him until the man’s dick was shoved unceremoniously in his unprepared hole. He was still a bit loose from the earlier fisting he’d gotten, but that was just barely, so Harry must have been out for a while. Tears or horror over his friends’ fates turned into tears of pain as the walls of his arse tore and started bleeding. Voldemort didn’t care in the slightest of course, just groaned in pleasure at the added lubrication as he fucked into the teen harshly.

He panted an whined as Voldemort’s giant cock split him wide open, scraping the walls of his arse raw. Still, when the damned thing brushed against his enlarged and over sensitive prostate, he couldn’t help but moan loudly as intense pleasure overrode the pain. Voldemort laughed cruelly and held his hips in a bruising grip, driving his cock as deep into Harry as he could go and grinded his pelvis against the teen’s arse, rubbing even harder against the prostate, making Harry moan even harder.

Harry couldn’t help but look up at his friends, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as pleasure coursed through his body at the unwanted assault. He didn’t want to feel it at all. Not when his friends were looking at him like that. He wanted Voldemort to just leave him alone already.

“Do you like the thought of their eyes on you?” Voldemort hissed in his ear.  
“You’re leaking pre-come all over the desk. Perhaps I should make you lick it up once I’m done.”

Harry whined pitifully and shook his head. He didn’t like it. It was because of the things Voldemort had made his body into. Every thrust was electrifying. Getting hard – no, not getting hard, getting aroused – was a simple bodily reaction. Still, it wasn’t any less humiliating. He tried muttering things, but only spit flew out of widely opened mouth. Again, Voldemort let out a loud bark of laughter and rammed Harry’s prostate with great force, making Harry’s tongue loll out of his mouth and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he keened loudly at the pleasure.

“This is how I like my whores best,” Voldemort taunted.  
“Keening and moaning while speared on my cock.”

Harry whimpered and thumped his forehead against the wood surface of the desk. He wanted Voldemort dead. He wanted to come! His insides felt like they were burning up with how his spot was abused by the harsh pounding he was receiving. He nearly screamed when Voldemort reached down and tugged on his balls. It was all he needed to come.

Though it was just a weak little spurt of watery, pearly white cum, it felt like the most intense orgasm he ever had in his life. Voldemort groaned as he tensed and clamped up around him, pushing all the way in to spurt out his own, much stronger orgasm deep inside Harry’s bowels.

Voldemort stepped back, pulling his cock out of Harry, making the young wizard flinch. The Dark Lord chuckled amused as he rummaged through the bad he’d brought, pulling out a medium sized plug out of it with a small, rubber tube going through it. Grinning at Harry’s widening of eyes, he pressed the plug against the boy’s leaking hole and pressed it inside with a swift move, making Harry gasp and whine. Voldemort smirked and showed the other end of the rubber tube.

“You know where this goes?” he asked teasingly.  
“Right in the piss-slit of your useless limp little dick.”

Harry’s eyes widened again and shook his head, whining through his gag as he pulled his bonds. Voldemort chuckled and gripped Harry’s cock, roughly pushing the small tube inside. Because Harry hadn’t had the chance to prepare for it, it hurt a lot and he threw his head back in a shout of pain. It didn’t end there either. Voldemort just kept pushing it in until it reached Harry’s bladder.

When he finally released the teen’s dick, Harry was crying again. The Dark Lord smirked and took something else from the bag; a leather dog collar with a thin iron chain attached to it and he tightened it around Harry’s neck swiftly. After that, he vanished Harry’s binds and pulled him up by his new collar, pushing him back in the cage and locking the door. With a small smirk, he attached the chain of his collar to one of the bars.

“The plug will make you keep everything inside you, and thanks to the urethral tube attached to it, there won’t be a mess in your cage tomorrow morning,” Voldemort told him.  
“Just let it all out and store it in your new sperm sack until I decide you’ve had enough and empty you again.”

Harry whined, his mouth hurting from being kept wide open for such a long time and grabbed the bars. The gag was still very much in place, so he couldn’t curse and scream like he wanted to. He doubted even if Voldemort had decided to take it out he would have been able though, since it had been in for so long already. And his mouth and throat were dry as a desert because of it.

“Thirsty?” Voldemort asked chuckling.

He grabbed the chain again and pulled, smashing Harry’s face roughly into the bars. He kept pulling, making sure Harry couldn’t move away as he put his soft dick in Harry’s mouth. For a moment, Harry was confused, but as the man started pissing, he tried to jerk away. Voldemort laughed and moved his grip to Harry’s hair, grinding the teen’s face against the bars, pressing his pelvis against Harry’s wide open mouth as he finished emptying his bladder, forcing Harry to swallow it all.

When he was done, he pulled away, and so did Harry, scrambling back to the other side of the cage as he wiped his mouth from piss and spit and glared hatefully at his captor. Voldemort just laughed and turned away from Harry, walking back towards the exit.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to feed you like a good owner should.”

He left Harry there, to cry himself to sleep, the vision of his two best friends staring down at him from their positions on the wall, calling him filthy names and blaming him for their meaningless sacrifice.

 


	3. Part 3

For a whole week straight, Harry was left like that. The plug prevented the cum and the steady growing pressure of piss to leak out of his bowels. It hurt like hell in the end, giving him cramps to be this full, but it seemed that his ‘womb’ was still able to hold even more liquids as it just kept on expanding with every time the urethral tube forced Harry to piss in his own arse.

Several times a day – which went from 5 times on a slow day to ten on the third day – Voldemort would visit. He’d grab Harry’s collar chain and pull him to the edge of his cage so he could fuck his mouth roughly through the bars. Sometimes, he would just put his limp dick on Harry’s tongue and piss.

Once a day, usually in the mornings, a nutrition potion would be forced down Harry’s throat, because Voldemort ‘didn’t want his toilet to die on him just yet.’

When at last Harry was let out of the cage again, he was more than eager to do so. He slowly crawled over to Voldemort, staring at the grinning man with wide, unblinking green eyes. Anything not to look at his two friends still nailed to the wall on either side of the door. The gag was taken off first, and Harry slowly moved his aching and sore jaw, wincing. The thing had been kept on and wide open for the entire week, so it was no surprise it hurt a lot.

“T-take it o-out,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Soon. First, sit back on your heels and show me how big it’s gotten,” Voldemort ordered smirking.

Harry blushed in shame, but did as the man said. He moved slowly, his entire body seizing up in cramps when he moved too fast. Once he was in the position Voldemort wanted, he couldn’t help but stare down at himself too. He’d seen it before, when he was lying on his side in his cage, but now it seemed to be extra visible. A large bulge in his stomach.

He was near tears while Voldemort stared down at him with hungry eyes. The bastard was actually getting off on Harry’s horrible position. Harry had honestly no idea why that shocked and horrified him so much, but it did.

“Good boy,” Voldemort mocked with a smirk.  
“Now, why don’t you show me just how badly you want to be emptied?”

As he asked this, he pulled his cock out his robes and grabbed Harry’s hair. Harry scowled unhappily as the scaly monstrosity was held in front of his face, but he didn’t pull away. Sighing in defeat, he opened his mouth and leaned forward. Unlike all the other times that week, Voldemort just stayed completely still, only lightly fisting Harry’s hair to guide him into bobbing his head.

Somehow, doing it himself was ten times worse than being forcefully face-fucked. He had to close his eyes and attempt to imagine himself in a different position, somewhere where there was no Voldemort, preferably.

“Look at me when you pleasure me,” Voldemort commanded.  
“You need to learn that I am everything to you from now on. So look at me.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he glared up at his captor. This only made Voldemort grinned and the Dark Lord gave a gentle tug on Harry’s hair in encouragement. Harry had to remind himself he was doing this for being emptied out. If he did this, he’d be relieved of his immense pain. He could do it for that.

It didn’t take long for Voldemort to get close to climax. Encouraged by the prospect of finally being done, Harry started sucking eagerly, but just before he was about to come, Voldemort pulled his face back and gripped his own spit slick cock in hand and jerked off in front of Harry’s face. The dark haired teen had barely enough time to close his eyes against the spurts of come landing across his face. He made a disgusted face and lifted an arm to wipe it off, but Voldemort stopped him.

“Leave it there,” he ordered.

Harry blushed in shame, but dropped his hand again, glaring down at his knees.

“I did what you wanted,” he croaked softly, his throat still not what it was supposed to be.  
“I did it, so just-just get this out of me, please? It really bloody hurts.”

“Of course. I promised, didn’t I?” Voldemort replied mildly, giving Harry that infuriating indulgent smile.

He watched warily as Voldemort swiped his wand, summoning a pretty large iron bucket. Once it was set between him and Harry, he grabbed the younger wizard’s wrist and pulled him up. Harry let himself be manhandled in a position with his legs spread over the bucket. Voldemort’s chest pressed against his back, and his still hard cock dug into his lower back, making Harry shiver. Even without the threat of the cock behind him, the entire position was excruciating. After being forced to stay on his knees for so long, stretching his legs and standing on his feet was just too painful. He didn’t fight him though, too desperate to be empty again to try. He just wanted this all to be over with.

Harry closed his eyes in shame and disgust as the plug was slowly pulled out of him with a terrible wet sucking noise. Merlin, he wanted to die. A small streak of piss dribbled out and splattered into the bucket loudly and the deafening noise was almost enough to bring him to tears. Still, it didn’t relieve him as most was still stuck inside that _‘sperm sack’_ Voldemort had turned his body into.

A strong, white hand came to rest on Harry’s distended belly and _pressed_. Harry doubled forward, screaming in agony as he tried to get out of Voldemort’s hands. It fucking hurt! Voldemort just chuckled at his struggling and pulled him even closer against his chest as he continued pushing on his stomach.

Suddenly, the pressure gave way and all the liquids gushed out of Harry. The young wizard cried out at the strange feeling and almost toppled forward again hadn’t it been for the Dark Lord still holding him up as the bucket under him quickly filled op.

After a while, the stream finally died down to a small trickle, and Harry found the courage in himself to look down at the bucket. His eyes widened and he choked back a sob when he saw the thing was almost entirely filled. Behind him, Voldemort laughed and pushed him forward, making Harry stumble on his numb legs and fall forward face first. He barely had the time to put out his arms to catch himself on the floor. Harry grit his teeth, trying to keep the tears at bay as he slowly lifted himself back up. A heavy foot suddenly rested on the small of his back and forcefully pushed him back down.

“Lift your arse,” the calm order came.

Harry hissed at him and wanted to refuse, but the foot moved to between his shoulder blades and started grounding down on him harshly, making him whimper in pain.

“I won’t threaten you with saying I’ll punish you like this again next time you displease me,” Voldemort said in a cold tone.  
“I plan on using a lot of variety in my punishments. But this will definitely be an option from now on, and next time, I might not be as merciful as to let you off after only a week.”

Harry shivered in fear at that and slowly lifted his hips up until he was on his knees. The foot between his shoulders disappeared, but Harry’s didn’t dare to move. He had suffered enough for a long time already, and he wasn’t going to risk being punished like that again. For now, he’d do what Voldemort said. He’d bide his time and get away at a later point.

He jumped a little when he felt two fingers suddenly jab at his insides and whined softly as his prostate was stimulated. He couldn’t help but moan loudly as Voldemort used his long fingers to massage the sensitive spot for a while, before the man chuckled and withdrew his hand, making Harry softly whimper at the loss.

“Already aching for it,” he teased amused, making Harry blush in shame.

Harry wanted to reply, but tensed and shouted in shock when Voldemort suddenly pressed his wand inside deep enough to poke at the sack. His legs trembled as suddenly a strong rush of water entered his bowels and filled the damned _‘sperm sack’_ again. Luckily, Voldemort stopped when the first cramps started and hauled Harry to sit upright in his knees as he pushed the bucket back under him. A hand rested on his belly again, and Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was to come.

It didn’t hurt as much as before, nor was there as much force needed to open up the sack and let the water spill out. Because of how much pain he’d been in before, Harry hadn’t felt the way the liquids pushed and pressed against his prostate, and he couldn’t help but moan. The water became a bit more murky and thick when it mixed with slick, and Voldemort laughed again.

When it was done, Harry was pulled over to the desk and thrown on the chair. He was too dazed to really do anything as Voldemort moved him around until he was sitting with his legs spread over the arm rests. The Dark wizard stared at him hungrily, making Harry want to curl into himself in fear, but Voldemort didn’t let him and grabbed his legs, pushing them against Harry’s chest and making the young wizard whimper softly in pain.

“Let’s see if we can get your belly to grow with just my come,” the man said cruelly.

Harry’s eyes widened and pushed forward. The pain he’d been going through for the past was still lingering in his body, and he really didn’t want to go through that again this soon, especially not with the amount of fucking that would be needed to do that. If it was even possible at all. Voldemort scowled and hissed as he pushed Harry back down, but in his terror, Harry found strength he didn’t think he had left in him after everything that was already done to him.

“NO!” he screamed as his fist made contact with Voldemort’s temple.

The man staggered a bit, and Harry shot up, head-butting his captor before making a run for it. He made it to the door while succeeding in keeping his gaze away from his two friends and threw the door open. He almost shouted in victory at finding it unlocked, but he wasn’t nearly in the clear yet, so he kept still as he ducked into the hall and rushed down the stairs. Harry could hear Voldemort curse and come after him, making his heart speed up in terror.

He made it into the corridor without much of a hitch and turned a right. If he could get outside the castle, he might be able to hide out in the Forbidden Forest before looking for help to get the rest out as well. Panic overtook his thinking again when a curse hit the wall beside his head, making the stone explode loudly. Harry sped up his running, his heart hammering in his throat in fear and exhaustion, but he didn’t stop or slow down.

There was commotion coming from a door a bit further to his left before it burst open and several Death Eaters ran out, blocking Harry’s way. The young wizard skidded to a halt, looking around frantically for another wat to go and quickly ducked underneath another curse from Voldemort as he hurried into a corridor to his right.

“Stop him!” he heard Voldemort roar.

The fear and panic almost blinded Harry. He couldn’t get caught now. If Voldemort got his hands back on him… Harry didn’t want to imagine what the sadistic bastard would do to him next. He was sure it would be even worse than what he had been through before now. More Death Eaters appeared before him, and Harry quickly ducked to the side, running through the first door he saw. He stopped, eyes widening in horror when he noticed he’d run into the Great Hall. Two dozen wizards in black robes and white skull masks stopped what they were doing to stare at Harry.

“Crucio!”

Harry dropped to his knees, screaming in agony as the curse hit him in the back. The pain coursed through him for what felt like an eternity before it was lifted. Sobbing, Harry stayed where he was, only partially unfurling from his fetus position as a dark shadow loomed over him. As soon as he saw the expression of fury on Voldemort’s serpentine face, he wished he hadn’t looked.

“P-please…” Harry whimpered as he tried curling into himself even more.  
“I can’t do this anymore… You win, alright? Just… please stop.”

Voldemort hissed in anger and grabbed Harry by his hair, hauling him up onto his knees. Harry shouted in pain and scrambled to obey while one hand closed around Voldemort’s bony wrist in an attempt to make him loosen his grip some.

“You think I’ll go easy on you if you ask me prettily enough?” the Dark Lord sneered.  
“You are _nothing_! A filthy whore I can use whenever I feel like, nothing more!”

Tears were streaming down Harry’s face, making some of the Death Eaters gathered around them laugh cruelly. Harry was too scared and in pain to care about being ashamed or prideful. He just wanted it all to be over with as he looked up with wide, begging eyes at his tormentor.

“Just kill me already!” he wailed.  
“I can’t do this anymore! Kill me!”

Voldemort snorted in distaste and looked at one of his followers.

“Get me a chair!” he growled.

The Death Eater immediately jumped into action and grabbed a chair, hurrying over to the middle of the Great Hall where Harry and Voldemort were and put the chair down next to his master. Harry flinched fearfully as Voldemort pulled out his wand again, but he relaxed a bit again when it was aimed at the chair, not him. With a single swipe, the Dark wizard turned the wooden chair into a mattress and threw Harry on top of it.

Swallowing fearfully, Harry rolled on his back and tried to crawl away, his eyes wide and tearful as he watched Voldemort approach him. He whimpered as he was pulled back to the middle of the mattress and Voldemort knelt down between his legs. He tried to push the man away, but his wrists were easily caught in one of Voldemort’s larger hands.

“Please… don’t-…” he whispered hoarsely.

Voldemort laughed cruelly and pushed Harry’s legs to the side before fishing his cock out of his robes. He gave Harry a dark grin and leaned over him, caging the dark haired teen in and forcing his hands above his head.

“Let’s show them all just how hungry you are for my cock,” the snake-like man hissed.

With that, he pushed forward, thrusting his entire dick into Harry’s barely prepared hole in one harsh move. Harry threw his head back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he screamed in agony at the sudden penetration. His entire body convulsed in pain, but Voldemort didn’t give a care for that as he immediately set a punishing rhythm. Harry bit his lip to keep the pained groans from escaping, but it was useless.

At one particular savage thrust, Voldemort hit the enlarged and over-sensitive prostate, making Harrys’ eyes fly open in a loud shout. After that, the pain slowly melted with intense pleasure, and Harry was unable to keep the noises to himself anymore. He could hear the jeers and laughter of the Death Eaters and he saw the evil smirk Voldemort was sporting, but it didn’t help any. He couldn’t stay quiet, no matter how hard he tried.

“How can you say you don’t want this, when your body obviously _begs_ to be used?” Voldemort taunted.

“F-fuck you! You-you d-did this to me!” Harry hissed as venomously as he could while his senses were bombarded by so much pain and pleasure.

Voldemort just laughed and thrust even harder, making Harry’s head fall back onto the mattress with a thud as he screamed in pleasure. His entire vision turned white as he came all over himself, his pathetic limp cock spurting out small strings of pearly white cum. Completely exhausted and boneless, Harry lay still as Voldemort sped up, his wrists were released in favor of letting Voldemort grip his hips with both hands, but Harry didn’t react, too far gone in exhaustion to move even a single inch.

Suddenly, Voldemort grabbed him by the front of his collar and hauled him up so he was sitting on the Dark wizard’s lap. Harry just shivered and moaned quietly at the new angle as gravity pushed him further down on the cock, making it reach places inside him it couldn’t reach before. Both of Voldemort’s hands returned to his sides and started forcing his body up and down on the thick shaft. Harry whimpered as his prostate was once again abused and threw his arms around Voldemort’s neck to steady himself, causing more laughter from the watching Death Eaters.

“Look at him! he can’t get enough!” one of them taunted cruelly.

“So eager to please our Lord, you’d think Potter has been dreaming of this.”

“Who says he hasn’t? I bet the bitch has been masturbating to the Dark Lord for years.”

Harry buried his face in Voldemort’s shoulder, too ashamed to face any of them as he cried silently. The only sounds escaping him were the occasional muffled groan or whimper. Voldemort just chuckled amused and continued manipulating Harrys’ body to reach his own pleasure.

After a little while longer, Harry could feel Voldemort tense under him before the first spurts of thick, hot come hit his insides. Harry moaned quietly at the feeling of being filled with Voldemort’s seed, his toes curling as it once again put pressure on his prostate, making him pant harshly in pleasure. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die in peace.

As Voldemort finished coming, he pushed Harry of his lap roughly and stood back up. With a blank look at his prisoner, he straightened out his robes and pulled out a small vile. Harry didn’t even notice the evil wizard approaching again as he stared unseeingly in front of him with empty, glassy eyes. This made Voldemort grin as he leaned over the boy and pulled him back up with his hair.

Harry made barely any noise as he was roughly forced back on his knees. Too tired to really feel any pain anymore. He let Voldemort put the potion vile on his lips without a struggle and obediently drank all of it down. It tasted very sweet for a potion and burned a bit as it went down his throat, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to worry. So when Voldemort let go of him again, he just flopped back down and laid on the mattress unmoving.

“The stage is yours, my friends! Have at him as much as you want!” Voldemort announced loudly.

The Death Eaters cheered and applauded as Voldemort calmly walked up to his throne and sat down. Harry tensed up, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the Death Eaters closing in on him. No…

 


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated twice in one day! Yay! I was finally able to finish this story. I'm really sorry if I went too far with anything, I just like to go into the really dark stuff when writing.
> 
> Enjoy the shortest and last chapter of Failed Destiny.

Harry wasn’t sure how many of them he’d serviced by now, only that he was still burning up. He was going delirious with the feeling, the pleasure that coursed through him. He wanted to come – he _needed_ to come, but Mast- _Voldemort_ wouldn’t let him.

Another cock was held in front of his face, and Harry eagerly wrapped his lips around it, moaning as the Death Eater started fucking his throat roughly. Vaguely, he recognized the sound of the large doors opening and several horrified gasps, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. The man fucking him from behind just came and left, leaving his needy hole empty. Harry whined around the prick in his mouth and wiggled his hips. He heard laughter before someone finally stepped up and kneeled behind him.

“No! Leave him alone!” a female voice yelled.

Harry tensed, his glazed, lust filled eyes widening as he finally succeeded in focussing on something. To his horror, he saw Ginny, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur standing next to the large doors, staring at him in disbelieve. Harry’s cheeks burned in shame, and he wanted to pull away from the man fucking his mouth, only for whoever it was to grab his hair and shoving him further down his prick until Harry choked. At the same time, the new man behind him pressed inside his arsehole and Harry could think no further. The Weasleys were once again forgotten as he moaned in pleasure.

Harry could feel how he was on the edge of orgasm, but was unable to tip over. His limp dick was leaking large amounts of pre-come on the mattress and his balls ached to release their load, but the magical cock ring wouldn’t allow it until Voldemort wished it.

The prick inside his mouth twitched before cum flooded down his throat. Harry swallowed desperately to keep from choking. At last, the man pulled away once Harry had drunk the last drop. Harry took in large gulps of air, thankful to be breathing again, but soon felt empty when the man behind him came as well and moved away.

No one else came for him anymore, but Harry still felt like his blood was on fire and his whole body itched with the need to be touched. He whined as he lay down on his stomach, rubbing his still completely limp, but aching prick against the mattress.

Two sets of hands grabbed him and hauled him into a sitting position. Harry looked up dazed, finding two identical faces with red hair and freckles staring down at him worriedly. He whined again and pressed his face against one of the twin’s chest, rubbing his cum soaked cheek in his clothes. For a short moment, Harry felt jealous. He hadn’t once been allowed clothes in the two weeks he’d spent in Voldemort’s possession, but soon was grateful for that same fact as he realized that clothes would mean no one could fuck him. And he _needed_ someone to do just that right now.

“Harry, are you alright? What have they done to you mate?”

He looked up at the twins, begging them with his eyes, but they just scowled. He whimpered and pressed closer to the twin holding him, rubbing himself against the older teen in hopes of getting the message across. Instead of being fucked by either, they were pulled away from him again, making Harry whine in protest before he went back to rutting desperately against the mattress.

He heard Voldemort talking, but it wasn’t against him, and even if it was, Harry wouldn’t be able to keep his attention by what he was saying anyway. He felt painfully empty. He needed someone to… he needed something to fill him up. Vaguely, he heard Voldemort say something about a Lust Potion, and… ah… So that was what had happened then. The thought was gone as soon as it had come because Harry just realized he didn’t need someone to fill him. He had fingers for Merlin’s Sake!

He pressed two fingers into himself, cringing a bit at the many fluids that leaked from his arse and down his thighs, and no, it wasn’t only cum and sweat, but soon, he got over his disgust and sighed in relief that the horrid empty feeling was finally gone. He started thrusting his fingers in and out of his aching hole, ignoring the laughter and jeers of the Death Eaters.

_“Crucio!”_

Harry screamed in agony as the curse hit him. His orgasm was ripped from him violently as the pain coursed through him and set all his nerves on fire. Voldemort lifted the curse and Harry shuddered as he curled up on his side. The intense feeling of horniness was gone the moment he came, and Harry was truly thankful for that. At the same time, he was horrified at what he had been doing the past few hours. He looked up shakily, seeing the Weasleys staring at him in worry and horror behind Voldemort, who looked disappointed.

“I thought I told you not to touch yourself, Harry,” the sake faced man tutted.

“Sod off, you bastard,” Harry croaked.  
“You knew what would happen when you bloody drugged me.”

Voldemort sighed and shook his head, aiming his wand at Harry again and making the naked teen flinch in fearful anticipation. The pain he had been expecting never came, and when he looked back up again, he found Fred and George standing between him and Voldemort’s wand. The man rolled his eyes and tucked the Elder wand away before striding forward. The twins jumped to the side when they saw he wasn’t coming up to them and watched along with Ginny, Bill and Fleur as the Dark Lord bent down and grabbed Harry by his hair.

The teen shouted in pain and scrambled to follow the older man as he was dragged over back to the Dark Lord’s throne. His arse stung, his legs were jelly and his entire body was slick with sweat and other bodily fluids, making him slip in the stone floor several times. In the end, he did reach the throne and Voldemort forced him to kneel by his feet as he himself sat down calmly.

Harry was looking down to the ground before his knees, not daring to meet the eyes of his friends and girlfriend. They had been forced to watch while he was getting fucked hard from both sides. It didn’t matter that it was because some Lust Potion Voldemort had forced down his throat a few hours back. Even without a potion, if Voldemort wanted his Death Eaters to use Harry as a fuck toy, it would happen. He was at the mercy of a merciless man. He was forced to bent to the madman’s whims for the rest of his miserable life.

“Now, let’s discuss the reason I have called on you,” Voldemort spoke as he rested his hand heavily on Harry’s head, carding through his messy hair.

“We won’t follow you!” Ginny hissed, stepping forward, only for Bill to pull her back.  
“I don’t care what you’ll do to us, but we’ll never join you!”

Voldemort hummed at that and continued petting Harry’s head before once again grabbing him by his hair and pulling his head up. Harry gritted his teeth against the pain as he was forced to meet the eyes of his friends. They watched him with worry and pity that did nothing but make Harry feel even worse.

“Do you see this?” Voldemort asked with a hiss.  
“Look at what I reduced your saviour to, girl.”

Shame blossomed in Harry’s chest and burned his cheeks as he tried to look away, only for Voldemort to roughly shake him by his hair. Harry groaned and looked back over to the remaining Weasleys.

“He promised me good behaviour and obedience so I wouldn’t let him be passed around by my followers,” Voldemort spoke.  
“As you see, he broke that promise and this was his punishment. But it is also an example for you, because while Harry will be my personal slut again tomorrow, if you choose to fight me, what you just saw will be your own fate permanently.”

The Weasleys paled at these words and Harry tensed. His eyes were wide, and only grew wider in horror when he saw the defiance in the twins and Ginny. He started shaking his head, ignoring the painful pull from the fingers still buried in his hair as he stared at his friends with begging eyes. He wanted desperately to tell them not to fight Voldemort, that whatever it was he had planned for them, it couldn’t be as bad as this, but he couldn’t find his voice, and the prospect of being punished again for speaking out of place would have still kept him silent even if he could speak at the moment. Bill deflated as he saw Harry’s panicked look.

“What do you want from us?” he asked quietly.

“I want you to take up the mantle of Lord Weasley, along with the tasks the title brings,” Voldemort replied.  
“You and your wife will be expected to have at least two children, a boy and a girl, both of whom I, or whomever I decide to hand the rights to, will chose who they marry. I will hold that right over your family for as long as I see fit and you will have no rights unless I personally bestow them on you until you have proven yourself loyal to me. Until then, your family will be vassals to the Malfoys.”

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, smirking as he bowed in thanks towards his Lord. Bill nodded gravely and held his wife’s hand. They could live with that. At least they would live. They would stay alive, and mostly free, have children and have a relatively normal life. They would be forced to see their children betrothed to whoever Voldemort chose, but that was a small price to pay.

“Now, you two, step forward!” Voldemort commanded, pointing at Fred and George.

The twins reluctantly did as they were told and walked up to the throne until they were right in front of Voldemort and Harry, who was still kneeling on the floor. Voldemort smiled in approval and held out his hand towards the two young men.

“Which one of you is the first born?” he asked calmly.  
“Don’t try to fool me on this. I have heard many things about your tricks and jokes.”

Fred swallowed and put his hand in the Dark Lord’s. The snake-faced man grinned at him as his hand encased the redhead’s wrist and his wand pressed against the back of the teen’s hand. Fred screamed at the sudden pain, making his twin and Harry wince.

As Voldemort let him go, he quickly pulled his hand back, cradling it against his chest while the others observed the scar it now held. In the middle of his hand was a dark ‘F’ burned. George swallowed nervously at the sight, especially when he noticed Voldemort had once again held out his hand and looked at him expectantly. Reluctantly, George gave him his right hand to mark it with a  big ‘G’.

“At least like this, I will know who to hand to whom when your time has come to be wed,” Voldemort said when he was done.  
“First born with first born. Hestia will one day take over from her father and become Lady Carrow. You, will become Lord Consort Carrow. Flora, as second born, will simply become Mrs. Carrow. You will both take their name, as the Carrow line has no male successors aside from Amycus, and he is unfortunately incapable of siring heirs.”

Fred and George nodded in understanding and stepped away, both scowling unhappily as they nursed their injured hands. Harry felt pity towards them, but at least they wouldn’t have to go through the things he himself had been subjected to this past weeks. At least they weren’t the pet of some sadistic monster.

“I expect from Fred and Hestia that they will do their duty as well. One son and one daughter. The Lady will be in charge of the house,” Voldemort told them.  
“I want to see at least one child of George and Flora as well. Of course, they still have to go to school a whole year after this before they graduate, so until then, you both will be left in the care of their aunt and uncle, Alecto and Amycus Carrow. They will groom you for your future brides.”

Two Death Eaters stepped forward and bowed to Voldemort before coming to stand on either side of the twins, who both scowled even deeper at this but didn’t complain. Voldemort, in the meantime, turned to address the last Weasley, who looked to be fuming at this point. Harry could see she wanted to say something, but a fearful look from him was enough to stop her.

“For young Ginevra, I have spoken with Lord Nott, and he agreed to betroth his son to you,” he said.  
“You two will be married by August, and for you the same rule goes as with your older brothers: at least one boy and one girl to continue the Noble Line of the Notts.”

Ginny balled her fists and sneered in anger, but didn’t speak.

“Lord Nott was also kind enough to agree to take you into his home and teach you true Pure blood manners, as it seems your family doesn’t have them,” Voldemort spoke dryly.  
“However, the Lady of a Noble House should be able to behave accordingly.”

Another Death Eater came forward and took off his mask after bowing to Voldemort. He was already middle aged and greying, but Harry easily recognized the features of his classmate. With a wave of Voldemort’s hand, his chosen Death Eaters took their new charges and left the Great Hall. Harry watched them go, catching Ginny’s eye one last time as his now ex-girlfriend looked over her shoulder before the heavy double doors fell closed behind her. He jumped a bit when he felt Voldemort’s hand slide over his face and looked up.

“Tell me, Harry. What have you learned today?” Voldemort asked as he caressed Harry’s cheek.

“…Not to disobey you again… Master,” the teen whispered hoarsely, his throat still sore from previous activities.

Voldemort smirked at the words and cupped Harry’s chin, lifting his head a bit more as he rubbed his thumb gently over Harry’s lower lip. Harry’s lips parted on a reflex and he allowed the thick digit to enter his mouth, sucking softly on it as Voldemort watched him, the smirk growing to a wide grin.

“Good Pet.”

Because that was all that Harry was now.

 


End file.
